224 KLOOF AND KARROO. 



We hold a whispered council, and after waiting 

 for a while steal forward very cautiously, keeping 

 what little breeze there is in our faces. In ten 

 minutes a subdued "hush!" brings us to a halt, 

 and we sit down waiting for light. There is now at 

 hand the faint approach of dawn, and shortly, as it 

 lightens perceptibly, we rise, shove cartridges into 

 our rifles, and peer anxiously through the mist. 

 Then Edgar pushes Bob forward a few paces, 

 pointing to an almost invisible object to his front ; 

 at the same time I can just distinguish something 

 moving to the left, fifty yards away. In a few 

 seconds, as the light comes, we can just make out 

 the forms of three or four springbok grazing, and 

 at a glance from Bob to indicate that he is ready, 

 we simultaneously fire. Bob to his front, Edgar and 

 I at an antelope on our left. Bob having a longer 

 shot misses clean in the uncertain light and fog ; 

 but a loud thud follows the reports of our other shots, 

 and the antelope we aimed at plunges forward and 

 falls. Rushing up, we find a springbok struggling 

 on the veldt with a bullet (Edgar's, as it turns out) 

 through its shoulder. Its life is quickly ended, and 

 then marking the spot with a handkerchief stuck on 

 a stick brought for the purpose, we run briskly 

 forward for a mile. Again we have to proceed 

 slowly, as the fog shifts back again ; but in a few 

 minutes it clears, and Bob and I get another shot 

 at a bok which trots slowly past us within thirty 

 paces. 



The beauty has not time to escape before we 

 have each planted a bullet, one through the brain 

 — a lucky shot — the other in the centre of the 

 body, too far back to have been immediately fatal 



